I'll be waiting here for you (run as fast as you can)
by ibuzoo
Summary: <html><head></head>But Tom, oh Tom is brilliant, Tom is dangerous, Tom is a riddle, Tom is here and Hermione breathes his essence deep in his lungs, prepares for the impact and lives.</html>


**I'll be waiting here for you (run as fast as you can)**

**Prompt:** Plan

**Rating: **T

**Warnings:** Modern AU / Hermione centric

**Word count:** 1208

**A/N: **This universe is kinda based like the Lies and Truths one in Sweating out Confessions just it's based in Plans and Truths. I feel like this is by far the flattest thing that I wrote the last weeks, I'm not really satisfied with how it played out but to be honest I had a lot of problems with this prompt, I just couldn't come up with something.

* * *

><p><strong>o.<strong>

**The Plan: **She doesn't need a boyfriend; school is everything.

**The Truth:** She has always been the intelligent kid, the one that people fall head over heels to crib her stuff or even worse - ask her to write their homework or exams. Harry and Ron are constantly the ones who try to steal her notes or homework during lunch break and it's a sour point in her perfection, a trifle that makes her lash out at anyone that comes near. She's that kind of girl that always sits in the library long after the other people have gone, who writes ten pages even if only four have been required and the students constantly mock her for her bushy hair, her casual comfy clothes but Hermione never cares, brushes it off as some kind of evolutionary necessity during the adolescence process.

But suddenly there's Tom.

Suddenly she spends more time with his friends then with her own, suddenly the library is not a place for isolation anymore but rather a chance to meet him again. Tom means hot wet kisses between the lessons, sophisticated discussions about topics she never bothered to ask either Harry nor Ron because neither of them would even keep up with her but Tom, oh Tom is brilliant, Tom is dangerous, Tom is a riddle, Tom is here and Hermione breathes his essence deep in his lungs, prepares for the impact and lives.

Tom is everything.

_(and suddenly school is not as important anymore)_

* * *

><p><strong>i.<strong>

She keeps a notepad with all of her plans, a growing wish list that counts 18 different items on it.

She crosses the first when Tom enters her life.

* * *

><p><strong>ii.<strong>

**The Plan:** She needs to study dentistry to make her parents proud.

**The Truth: **She doesn't care for enamels or pulps or gums or dental roots but she knows the facts that the electric chair as well as the chewing gum were both invented by dentists, knows that moisture entrapped in the cap favours bacterial growth. Dental health is a whole science in itself and there is a lot more to it than appears so and Hermione knows it all, studied it a life long at her parents side and she can see the way her mother's eyes gleam with pride, the way her father's shoulders pump themselves.

But there's a little fragment of doubt in her mind, a nagging voice at her conscience that tells her she can go further, can do more with her life as to follow blindly in her parents' steps.

She thinks about cardiac surgery, reads books about the anatomy of hearts, buys a collective edition of Da Vinci's notes but she never tells anyone besides Tom, keeps it below radar level so no one finds out but Tom has always been so much cleverer, so much more observant than the rest of her peers.

A week later Tom invites her to a party, full of upper class doctors and lawyers, introduces her to Dr. Lestrange and when she leaves his business card and invitation for an internship at the hospital weight]s heavy in her purse, hangs like a Damocles sword over her head.

She calls the day after.

_(she never regrets it)_

* * *

><p><strong>iii.<strong>

There are times when she needs to cross two plans at once, neatly crossed out with a pen marker and her list grows smaller and smaller with each passing season that she keeps him near.

_(she refuses to let him leave)_

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><p><strong>iv.<strong>

**The Plan: **She planned to stay with her parents during her studies.

**The Truth:** A week before freshman year starts Abraxas drags her wine-red leather couch with Greyback halfway through the flat, places it right in front of Tom's oversized mahogany bookshelf - an heirloom as he insists - which is stuffed with old leather tomes and thick reams so Hermione's books won't have much place anymore. Rockwood places the last moving box under Bellatrix' direction on top of the remaining ones and everyone rests, laughs, eats until it's far after midnight and when they leave the flat lies still and calm, a serenity that she treasures.

She never thought about how her life would be once she'd moved out of her parents' house but the second Tom's hands caress her delicate skin with the tips of his fingers - little scars on his smooth flesh, imperfections that feel like dynamite sticks when they explode over the caves of her ribs - she sees her future bright and clear, warm and loved so she turns around, kisses his jawline with burning lips, feels the beat of his heart throbbing rhythmical and in unison to her own, tastes a combination of peppermint schnapps and snow.

She knows where she belongs.

_(her heart is like a key and the lock screams Tom, Tom, Tom)_

* * *

><p><strong>v.<strong>

Sometimes she adds things to the list but her plans change with each step she takes with Tom and it scares her to death how easily she abandons her good resolutions as soon as he's involved.

* * *

><p><strong>vi.<strong>

**The Plan:** She doesn't need a man to be complete.

**The Truth: **The ring is shiny and golden with a white diamond that refracts all the different kinds of colours, reflects them like a kaleidoscope as soon as the sunlight breaks through it. It appears chaste and delicate, almost innocent while it rests where he put it a second ago, in a Tiffany blue box between them on the table.

Tom's hands are both entwined with hers and his thumb rubs soothing circles in her skin but Hermione feels like her lungs are about to collapse, like her ribs are about to break and her legs are going to abandon her. There's a thin sheet of sweat at the nape of her neck where her head joins her spine and her hearts is pounding like a machine-gun and it feels as if the beast inside her could jump out of her ribcage at any second.

Tom's eyes are dark around the iris which almost swallows his grey and Hermione can't decide whether it reminds her of a predator or a killer but she doesn't care, fixes her gaze at the little dabs of blue and green in his eyes, breathes, counts, thinks. The silence is loud, threatens to swallow them whole and it's a conundrum for her how Tom can be as calm as the night because clearly this is not the time for being still or composed at all and she feels how his thumb search for her pulse, presses down until it stabilises itself and she breathes deep in, feels his poison tranquillising her.

"Is that a yes?", he rumbles darkly and the bastard really has the boldness to be amused, cheeky and she wants to retaliate a tad sarcastic or a tad flirty but in the end all she does is whisper in awe, "Yes."

_(the ring fits her finger perfectly and she watches it mesmerised, knows, that this is the start and not the end at all)_

* * *

><p><strong>vii.<strong>

There are over thirty wishes on her list.

_(most of them crossed out by now, unreadable reminders of a life she doesn't want to live anymore)_

She takes her pen and starts to cross.


End file.
